


A Pirate's Life for Us

by deinvati



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Drabble, M/M, Prompt Fic, mockumentary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26236405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deinvati/pseuds/deinvati
Summary: Pirates make their own rules.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19
Collections: ImPROMPTu Drabblery





	A Pirate's Life for Us

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Locked out  
> Genre: Pirate Mockumentary  
> Length: up to and including 400
> 
> Except this is way longer than 400 words. Why? Because fuck everyone else, I make my own rules.

Eames stood smugly on the aft deck and announced, "All hands to the mast, if you know what I mean, darling."

Arthur rolled his eyes to the camera before saying, "Aye aye, Mr. Eames," and then yelling, "All hands to the mast!"

There was a pause and then someone hollered, "Is this another meeting? We've got jobs, you know."

Eames glanced at the camera and then scowled at them. "It will only take a bloody minute, you scurvy dogs!"

Arthur hesitated and the camera drew in closer. "Eames," he muttered, "if anyone actually has scurvy, we should actually address it in—"

"No, Arthur, it's a turn of phrase, _a turn of phrase,_ " Eames hissed back, then turned a benevolent smile to the assembling crew.

"Gentlemen, pirates, friends," Eames began and the camera crew caught several of the side-eyes being tossed around. "We begin our voyage into the unknown with a sense of—"

Arthur cleared his throat.

Eames paused and started again. "We are headed to an island. A specific island, in the Caribbean, which holds the treasure we've been seeking. Any plunder we find along the way will be split among the crew so keep a weather eye out. It won't be long now. That is all."

On his own later, Eames explained to the camera. "The treasure will not be shared with the crew. So hopefully they are actually, you know, looking for booty." He grinned.

When it was Arthur's turn to explain, he just sighed. "No, he hasn't told me what the treasure is, but I have a feeling. He keeps dropping hints."

Eames sashayed across the deck. "Arthur, darling, have you seen my heart anywhere? I believe I lost it and I was wondering if you picked it up."

Three nearby pirates found something else to do.

Arthur stared into the camera. "I've got three different trade ship routes plotted for the return trip. We'll be fine."

Eames was the first one into a boat when the shout of "Land ho!" came down from the crow's nest. Faster than anyone could react, he swung over the side and lowered the boat with arms straining and coat flapping. The camera watched Arthur stare after him before he noticed and followed after.

When they got to shore, Eames consulted an old map. After wandering around squinting at the treeline, mumbling to himself, he finally yelled, "Ah ha!" and he and Arthur started to dig. It didn't take long before Eames unearthed a small chest, clearing the grit away to reveal an elaborate lock.

"Oh. Hmm. Arthur, do you recall what I might have done with the, uh," he glanced at the camera, "the mmph?"

Arthur blinked. "The what?"

"The _mmph."_

"..the—"

"The _key_ , god damn it," Eames said.

Arthur blinked again. "No, Mr. Eames. I don't know what you did with the key to a chest I've never seen."

Eames sighed and dropped the chest back into the hole. "Oh, bugger all. I had a speech planned and everything."

"Damn. I just love your speeches," Arthur said dryly. "Why? What's in there?"

Eames frowned and looked up from where he knelt in the sand. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

Arthur looked surprisingly fond as he squatted down beside his captain. "I know. But maybe you don't really need it."

Eames humphed. "It's tradition."

Arthur smiled. "Is it? Well, maybe we'll start our own traditions. Make our own rules. Fuck everyone else."

Eames looked up, hopeful. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Eames considered, and then drew his sword. He placed it on the ground between them. "My life for yours," he said simply, honestly.

The camera watched Arthur swallow several times before he drew his own sword. It lay opposite Eames', a perfect counterweight. "My life for yours," he repeated.

The camera focused on the chest, half-buried in the sand, and completely passed over for the treasure in front of them.


End file.
